A Match Made in Heaven?
by TheMidgetBee
Summary: Lord Vetinari is bored. So when Drumknott brings to his attention the fact that he and Commander Vimes are becoming gay icons in AnkhMorpork, it gives him an idea about how he could amuse himself...
1. Chapter 1

Or: How I Tried to Write Slash without the Slash.

Author's Note: I've wanted to write a Vimes/Vetinari slash-type fic for a while (about a day and a half), but wanted to do it so that it wouldn't go against the canon. I have referred to some of the slash stories I've read on here but if any of the authors of those stories don't like that then just tell me and I'll remove the reference. Anyway, enjoy...I hope.

Disclaimer: I intend to traumatize at least one character severely during this fic; however, none of them belong to me, dammit.

* * *

Lord Vetinari leaned back in his chair and sighed. He was so _bored_. Everything was going too well lately. Usually that meant that there was some nefarious group of plotters about to make yet another attempt on his life but his spies had already uncovered all three this week. He stared at the huge pile of paperwork and tried to resist the urge to throw it all out of the window; after all, it wasn't as if anyone would notice a bit of extra litter on Ankh-Morpork's streets.

There was a polite knock on the door.

"Come," he said, grateful for the interruption.

Drumknott walked in, a worried expression on his face. "Sorry to bother you, my lord, but I have something I think you should see." He placed a magazine on Vetinari's desk.

Vetinari looked down at it dispassionately. "Drumknott, why have you put a magazine with a picture of an overly-muscled naked young man on the cover onto my desk?"

"It's a copy of this month's 'Pink Pages', sir. It's a magazine for gay men, sir."

"I can see that, Drumknott. But why is it on _my_ desk?" asked Vetinari.

Drumknott swallowed, he'd been dreading this. "Turn to page 34, sir."

Vetinari opened the magazine to the appropriate page and stared. A huge picture dominated the page; it was an iconograph of him and Commander Vimes, taken at the soiree for the ambassador from Brindisi last month. Splashed across the picture were the words 'Havelock Vetinari and Sam Vimes: A Match made in Heaven?' He looked at Drumknott and raised an eyebrow.

"It's a story one of their readers has written and sent in, sir. They hold a competition every issue for the best fictional pairing of two famous men and the winner gets their story printed," said Drumknott.

"And apparently myself and Commander Vimes have provided the author with some inspiration recently," Vetinari smiled slightly. "Well, let's have a look at what he's written…_'Sam tried to resist as he felt Havelock's lips press against his, but could only do so for a moment before melting into his passionate embrace. "Havelock," he whispered as the Patrician kissed his way down Sam's body, stopping only when he_—'… Oh my."

"I know, it is rather…graphic, isn't it, sir. That is just this month's issue, sir, but apparently you're quite popular with the magazine's readers," said Drumknott.

"Hmm?" said Vetinari, distracted by what Havelock was now doing to Sam. "My goodness, the imagination some people have…" He looked up. "What do you mean 'popular'?"

"Well, sir, in the stories you've been paired with several other men," explained Drumknott, pulling a list out of his pocket. "So far: Commander Vimes, obviously; Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson; Rincewind, the wizard who was on the Kite; Leonard da Quirm; oh, and, er…me."

"You?"

Drumknott shifted slightly. "Yes, sir. Several times, sir. The magazine has a great many readers in the city, and apparently quite a few of them believe that these stories are based on real events."

Vetinari, having finished the story by now, put the magazine down on his desk and turned to face his secretary. "Do you want to have sex with me, Drumknott?"

"What?!"

"It's a simple enough question."

Drumknott's eyes widened. "Um…no, sir?" he said, praying that was the right answer.

Vetinari nodded. "Capital. Well, I have no desire to have sex with you either, so I assume that's sorted out." Drumknott nodded enthusiastically. "Good. Where did you find the magazine, anyway?"

"In the kitchens, sir. It belongs to one of the clerks."

"Ah," Vetinari paused. "Clerk Brian?"

Drumknott nodded. "He says he collects them almost religiously, sir. He's got every issue."

"I bet," said Vetinari. Suddenly a wicked smile appeared on his face. "Send a clacks to Pseudopolis Yard, will you? I have a feeling Commander Vimes is going to want to see this."

* * *

Commander Vimes had to admit he was a little apprehensive when Drumknott sent him straight into the Oblong Office. Normally Vetinari made him wait at least ten minutes. Oh gods, he thought, what was going on now?

"Ah, Vimes," Vetinari greeted him with a friendly smile. "Do have a seat, won't you?"

"Is something wrong, sir?" asked Vimes. "We've already had our daily meeting."

Vetinari waved a hand languidly. "No, no. Nothing's _wrong_." He held out a magazine on his desk to Vimes, who took it. "Open it to page 34."

Vimes did so and almost fell off his chair; he looked at Vetinari in shock. "Is this some kind of joke, sir?"

Vetinari smiled again. "Read it."

Vimes sighed and began to read as Vetinari walked over to the window and stared out at the city. When he'd gotten to the end Vimes let out another, more ragged, sigh.

"It's quite the story, isn't it?" said Vetinari.

When Vimes replied, his voice sounded somewhat distant, even to him. "It's…um…very interesting, sir."

Vetinari crossed over to the desk and perched on it in front of Vimes. "Wasn't it just?" He cocked his head to one side, and gave the Commander an inquiring look. "What was your favourite part?"

The end, thought Vimes. People actually thought he'd do _that_? Vetinari seemed to be expecting an answer though, so he decided to play it safe. "I thought the story was…very well edited, sir."

"Mmm," said Vetinari in a tone Vimes had never heard him use before. "What did you think of the choice of pairing? Apparently the thought of the two of us having wild, passionate sex is quite popular with the readers of this magazine."

Vimes struggled to stifle a scream; Vetinari was flirting with him! "I-it's not something that I've ever considered, sir."

Vetinari leaned closer to Vimes and gave him a long, smouldering look. "Consider it now, Sam."

Vimes jumped up so fast he knocked the chair over. "I'd rather not, sir!"

Vetinari sat back and grinned. "What's wrong, Vimes? You seem nervous."

Vimes gulped; this was worse than the dragon, the werewolf and the dark dwarves all rolled into one. "Why did you really ask me here, sir?"

Vetinari smiled and indicated the magazine still in Vimes' hand. "I just wanted to talk to you about the story, Vimes." He gave the Commander an innocent look. "The magazine is quite popular and I just wanted to prepare you for any rumours that may start as a result of it."

"So you're not trying to seduce me?" Vimes asked warily.

Vetinari chuckled. "My dear Vimes, why would I do that? Do you honestly think I would ask you to come to my office alone for an unscheduled meeting, show you a rather explicit story about you and I having graphic and detailed sex and then use it in an attempt to arouse you into re-enacting some of its most memorable passages? What a preposterous idea."

"Er…good. Because you know I'm not gay, right?" said Vimes firmly. "Not that there's any thing wrong with all that, but I'm just not. I'm married, and I have a child."

Vetinari nodded. "If you say so, Vimes," he said, sounding unconvinced. "And of course no married man has ever realised he's actually gay, has he…?"

"I'm _warning_ you…"

"Oh hush, Vimes. I merely wanted to discuss the story with you. You have to admit that it's an interesting pairing, don't you think? Someone like me being paired with someone like you…" He looked Vimes up and down slowly. "…Dynamic, strong, _virile_…"

Vimes glared at him. "I think I'd better get back to the Yard now, sir."

Vetinari smiled and held out a hand. "Fine. If I could have my magazine back, please."

Vimes hesitated and took a step forward, holding the magazine as far away from him as possible. Vetinari put his arm down by his side with a smile.

"On the desk please, Commander."

Vimes took another step forward and pulled his arm back to throw the magazine on the table.

"Don't throw it, Vimes. _Place_ it on the desk, please."

Gritting his teeth and making sure he kept his eyes on Vetinari, Vimes stepped closer. The Patrician's eyes fixed on his, and as Vimes slid the magazine onto the surface of the desk, Vetinari leant towards him…

Then just as suddenly Vetinari stepped away, and sat back in his chair behind his desk, all icy efficiency once more. "I thought you were going, Commander? After all, I'm sure you have some important work to be getting on with, as do I."

Vimes was frozen to the spot though; suddenly he felt dazed and very, very confused. He shook himself slightly and started taking backward steps to the door, keeping his eyes on Vetinari at all times. "Right...yes…very important…work. Gotta go!"

He quickly left the room and hurried towards the stairs. What until he told Sybil about this…

* * *

Vetinari listened to Commander Vimes practically run away and grinned. He'd had no intention of actually kissing Vimes, or of doing anything else to the man, but it was fun to watch him squirm. His grin grew even wider as he wondered what to say to Vimes tomorrow; this was going to keep him amused for _weeks_. 


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I tried so desperately not to continue this, but it's Oakeneye's fault. Oh well…

Actually it was fun to write, so thanks for the inspiration. And who would ever think that Vetinari could be so dirty-minded…? I've had to up the rating on the story just because of _that_ conversation.

Heehee.

* * *

Dave looked up as the bell above the door rang and tried to arrange his features into a friendly smile as the Watch Corporal sidled in. "Alright, Nobby?" 

"Alright, Dave. My magazine in yet?"

"Yeah, here you go." He handed Nobby a copy of 'Conspiracy Monthly'. "It's a bumper issue this month; they're featuring the ten conspiracies the government don't want you to know about."

Nobby grinned. "Great."

Dave leaned over the counter. "Have you heard about the new one they're bringing out?" he whispered.

Nobby leaned closer. "No. What's it called?"

"'It's _Not_ a Conspiracy Monthly'; some magazine the Patrician's supposed to be sponsoring on the quiet or something. First issue is about the Sock Dance rumours."

"Yeah? What's it say about it?" asked Nobby curiously.

"That it was just some new type of aerobics the secretary was trying out."

"Yeah right, like anyone would believe _that_." Nobby nodded a goodbye and turned to go but a magazine cover caught his eye. He wandered over to the magazine rack and pulled it out; a huge iconograph of Commander Vimes dominated the cover. "'Pink Pages'?" he murmured. "Here, Dave, what's this?"

* * *

"So Dave says they're doing this 'Men of Ankh-Morpork' edition, and Mr Vimes is one of the men," said Nobby excitedly. "Apparently they can't get enough of him." 

Sally grinned as she flicked through the pages. "Looks like he's not the only one; Angua, you do know Carrot's in this, right?"

"What?" Angua grabbed the magazine. "'_With his well-toned physique and sweet-hearted nature, here's one Captain of the Watch that can take us Downtown with him any time,_'" she read out. "Where the hell did they get a picture of Carrot naked?"

"He's naked?" Sally squealed. She grinned sheepishly as Angua snarled at her. "Sorry, I forgot."

"Hmm." Angua glared at her for a few seconds more than looked back at the magazine. "Have you seen who else is in this list?"

"No, who?"

"The Patrician, the Patrician's secretary, Lord Downey, that man who runs the Post Office, Igor, Leonard da Quirm, that scrawny wizard from Unseen University, Reacher Gilt--"

Sally took the opportunity to peek over Angua's shoulder at the naked Carrot picture. "Wow…"

"Stop looking at it or you'll be doing shifts with Washpot for the next month—Igor, that pasty wizard with the glasses, that student he's always hanging around with, William de Worde--" Angua continued. "—Igor, and your friend Otto."

"So I'm not in there then?" asked Nobby glumly.

"Nobby, it's a magazine for gay men; do you _really_ want to be here?"

Nobby shrugged. "It'd be nice." His eyes widened as Sally started to grin at him. He waved his hands frantically. "Not like that!"

"But don't you cross-dress?" asked Sally.

"Who told you that?"

"Everyone."

Nobby sniffed. "It's true that I like to express my feminine side once in a while but that doesn't mean that I'm…y'know."

"Gay?"

"Yeah. I mean no. I mean--"

Sally's grin grew wider. "Because it'd be awfully easy to think you were what with the wearing dresses and bringing in gay magazines to work and everything."

"But I'm not!"

"Are you sure?" She leaned closer. "Are you _really_ sure?"

Nobby glared at her. "I'm going to talk to Fred now," he said coldly. He quickly scurried over to the relative safety of the other side of the room.

Angua snorted. "You can be such a bitch sometimes."

"Coming from you, sergeant, that's practically a compliment."

* * *

"Sir?" 

"Yes, Carrot?"

"It's almost time for your meeting with Lord Vetinari, sir," said Carrot. "You'd better leave soon or you'll be late."

_And we wouldn't want that_, thought Vimes. "Actually I'm a bit busy right now. Um…why don't you go for me?"

Carrot frowned slightly. "But I went yesterday, sir. And the day before that. And the day before _that_. Lord Vetinari did specifically ask for _you_ to visit today, sir."

_I bet he did_. "I would but I have so much to do--"

"He told me to tell you that if you said that then he's got a number of extremely fulfilling positions you could occupy at the Palace instead, sir."

_Oh…bollocks_. "Oh alright then," grumbled Vimes. His face brightened. "Why don't you come with me anyway, as a chaper—as Watch Captain?"

"But I _am_ Watch Captain." The frown deepened. "Aren't I?"

"Exactly; and that's why you'll be there, Carrot."

* * *

Sally sighed as she flicked past the place where the picture of Carrot used to be; Angua had torn it out before she could stop her. _Can't stop me from reading the accompanying story though, can she?_ Sally thought to herself. Her mouth dropped open as Story-Carrot began to something quite intriguing to Story-Vimes. "Wow…" 

"Hello, Lance-Constable Humpeding, is Sam here?"

"Hmm?" Sally looked up into the smiling face of Sybil Vimes. "What? Oh…um…" she looked over at the Signing-In Book. "…No, he's gone for a meeting with the Patrician."

"Oh? Do you know when he'll be back?" asked Sybil.

Sally shrugged. "Pretty soon, I'd guess; he doesn't spend much time at the Palace now days."

Sybil smiled. "Okay, well when he gets back could you please tell him—why is Sam's picture in that magazine?"

"What? Oh, this? It's nothing," Sally tried to pull the magazine into a drawer but Sybil grabbed it before she had a chance.

Sybil managed to read a few words before her smile disappeared completely. "Why are Sam and Carrot…?"

"It didn't actually happen!" Sally explained hurriedly. "And no-one's saying it did! It's just a gay magazine where they feature fictional—_fictional_—stories about men having sex with other men. Even if they don't usually. Um."

"I see…" said Sybil slowly.

"Please don't tell Mr Vimes I was reading it," begged Sally. "I'm still in trouble for spying on the Watch and if he finds out he'll stick me on patrol with Visit; and _he_ keeps trying to consecrate me with Holy Water. That stuff really stings, you know."

Sybil took a deep breath. "I'll tell you what I'll do; I won't tell Sam about this, but I _am_ taking your magazine. You shouldn't be reading it on duty anyway."

"Thanks, Mrs Vimes."

Sybil shoved the offending magazine into a bag and hurried back to the carriage waiting outside. "People can be so silly sometimes," she chuckled to herself. "Thinking Sam would do that…so silly." She glanced at her bag, lying on the seat beside her. "Still…"

The carriage quickly made its way to Scoone Avenue and Sybil disembarked. "Did you have an enjoyable time, my lady?" asked Willikins politely.

"Yes, thank you, Willikins." Sybil paused. "Um…I shall be upstairs catching up on my correspondence; don't disturb me unless it's important."

"Yes, my lady."

Sybil made her way up to the bedroom that she and Sam shared, threw her coat and bag onto the bed and sat down at her desk, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. 'Dear Roberta,' she wrote. She stopped suddenly and looked at her bag.

"You're being silly, Sybil," she muttered to herself. "It's just a story, it doesn't mean anything." _But still_, she thought, _it's a story about Sam_. "Maybe if I just read until the end of _that_ story…"

* * *

"So, Vimes, would you say that you are fully satisfied in your current position?" asked Lord Vetinari innocently. "Because you haven't come to our daily meetings lately and your satisfaction is something that is very important to me." 

Vimes focused his gaze on the usual spot on the wall above the Patrician's head. "I can assure you that I am, sir."

"Capital. But your performance recently has aroused certain…suspicions."

"Sir?"

"With regards to your level of happiness in your work, Vimes. Of course if your current position no longer pleases you then I'm sure I can find others you may find more pleasurable." Vetinari smiled. "In fact I'm thinking of several right now."

_Bastard_. "Thank you, sir. But I'm comfortable where I am."

"Are you sure? Because I would be _more_ than happy to accommodate you here at the Palace."

"No thank you, sir." Vimes groaned inwardly as Vetinari gave him a seductive look. He glanced over at Carrot, who was standing perfectly to attention; how could he not notice this? Vetinari was practically offering to give him a lap-dance right there and then!

"Hmm, very well." Vetinari looked down at the notes on his desk. "I see you managed to arrest 'Gripper' Hoskins yesterday, Vimes."

"Yes sir."

"Mr Vimes arrested him personally, sir," added Carrot. "Gripper put up a bit of a fight but Mr Vimes wouldn't stop until he got his man."

"Really? How interesting. So you managed to keep it up then, Vimes? Despite the pounding Mr Gripper I hear gave you?"

Vimes glared at the wall. "Yes sir."

"He was very brave, sir," said Carrot. "Gripper kept coming at him but still Mr Vimes stood firm."

_Oh gods, now they're both at it. Carrot, shut up,_ Vimes hissed mentally.

Vetinari looked Vimes up and down slowly. "Commendable. Although by engaging in a tussle with Mr Gripper it could be construed that you ended up playing right into his hands."

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir," Vimes spat through gritted teeth.

"But wouldn't such aggressive tactics in the pursuit of a man result in something of a messy situation?"

"Oh no, sir; Mr Vimes always knows how to make them come quietly," said Carrot.

"What an interesting image that conjures up," Vetinari smiled again. "Tell me, Captain, do you find being under Commander Vimes an exciting experience?"

"Oh yes, sir," Carrot answered enthusiastically. "It can be very fulfilling."

Vimes' glare at the wall intensified. Perhaps he should've explained the situation to Carrot after all…

"Yes, I imagine it would be." Vetinari's smile widened and he gave Vimes a predatory stare. "You know, whenever I've found myself hard at it and coming up against some stiff competition I've always been stimulated by the thought that the Commander has no trouble rousing his men to greater heights."

Vimes sighed. This was going to be a long meeting…

* * *

Sybil lay back on the bed and fanned herself with her hand. My goodness, she thought, those stories are so…enthralling. 

She'd looked back at the magazine and opened it at a dog-eared page. She'd been rather shocked at first at just how many men her husband had been paired with in its pages. The first story, the one with him and Carrot, had proved somewhat uncomfortable reading but it was like witnessing a coach crash; you should look away but you just can't help yourself. And before she knew it, she'd read every story in the magazine, getting more and more surprised with how much she enjoyed each paragraph before finally finding _that_ story.

The one about Sam and Havelock.

She was reasonably sure that Havelock wasn't gay; despite his apparent self-enforced celibacy with regards to the fairer sex he'd never struck her as that type. Plus there were those rumours about him and Lady Margolotta to consider. And she knew that Sam had never once expressed anything but rage and frustration with regards to the Patrician. But the story had somehow managed to turn Sam's anger and Havelock's iciness into something else entirely. And it was something she felt rather guilty about, but the thought of the two of them locked in a passionate embrace was rather exciting…

She sighed happily and began to read the story again.

* * *

Vimes kicked viciously at a rolled-up newspaper as he stamped out of the Palace. 

"Something wrong, sir?" asked Carrot with concern. "You seem a bit angry." He thought about it then added. "…er."

Vimes turned to glare at the Captain and snarl a reply but sighed when he saw Carrot's good-natured expression. "Carrot, did you _really _not notice anything strange in that meeting?"

"Like what, sir?"

"Like Vetinari--" Vimes grimaced. "—coming onto me."

"Oh _that_. Yes, I noticed."

"You did?" Vimes gave him a surprised look. "How? Why didn't you say anything?"

Carrot shrugged. "I didn't think it'd be polite. Anyway, it would've been pretty difficult not to have noticed; his Lordship does have quite the vocabulary, doesn't he?"

"Yes he does," said Vimes gloomily. "Hang on, you don't seem to mind though; don't dwarfs frown on that sort of thing?"

Carrot grinned. "Oh no, sir. What ever gave you that idea?"

"Well, the attitude to Sonkies--"

"That's different, sir. Interfering with--" Carrot blushed slightly. "—_procreation_ like that, it's against the teachings. But well, you know how all dwarfs sort of look male…?"

"So you're saying that accidents happen?" asked Vimes slowly. This was certainly news to him.

"Not accidents, necessarily, more like misunderstandings. It's just that when the first step in courting is usually finding out the gender of your…friend, sometimes when you find out that they're actually the same gender as you, you already love them enough so that it doesn't matter," Carrot explained. "We dwarfs can be rather practical about that sort of thing."

"Oh." Vimes gave Carrot a sidelong glance. "So have _you_ ever…?"

Carrot gave him a friendly smile that revealed nothing. "Ever what, sir?"

"Have you ever--" Vimes stopped as he saw a large group of people clustered around the doors of Pseudopolis Yard. "What the hells going on?" He elbowed his way to the front and came face to…face with a large poster of a naked Captain Carrot. "And what the hell is _that_?"

"…."

"Carrot, why is there a naked picture of you on the door?"

"…!"

Vimes looked around as there was a loud crash behind him; Carrot lay sprawled on the cobbles, his normally pale complexion glowing with acute embarrassment. As he looked at the fainted man with surprise, several people in the crowd squealed and surged forward at the watchmen.

"Detritus!" screamed Vimes as they began to tear at his clothing. "_Detritus_!"

* * *

Vimes glared at remnants of the poster on his desk then looked up so he could direct the glare at the assorted watchmen assembled in his office. "Detritus has finally managed to disperse the crowd," he said coldly. "So who would like to explain? Corporal Nobbs?" 

Nobby shifted uncomfortably at this unwanted attention and decided to stick to a tried and true tactic. "Sir?"

The glare intensified. "Don't play dumb with me, Nobby," snapped Vimes. "I know this is your fault, all I need to know is _how_."

"I dunno what you're talking about, sir."

"Fine; Lance-Constable Humpeding?" Sally gave the Commander a panicked grin. "Explain. _Now_."

"I don't know--" Sally stopped when she saw the vein in Vimes' forehead begin to throb alarmingly; that was always a bad sign. "None of us put the poster up, sir."

"I've already worked that out for myself, Lance-Constable; I'm not in the habit of hiring suicidal watchmen. How did it get there?" Vimes nodded as Angua padded into the office. "How's Carrot?"

"Igor said he got a bang on the head when he fainted like that but he seems to have gotten over the initial shock," said Angua. "He probably won't stop blushing for a month though." She gave the poster an inquiring look. "What's that doing there?"

"You recognize this?" Vimes held up a scrap of the torn paper then reconsidered when he saw which bit of the picture he'd picked up. "I mean obviously you'd recognise tha--" Sally and Nobby started to grin despite themselves. "—you've seen this poster before?"

Angua nodded. "Yes, it was in a magazine that…a suspect brought in earlier," she replied with barely a hesitation.

Vimes glanced at Nobby. "A suspect brought this in?"

"Yes sir."

Vimes tried not to grin at the Sergeant's refusal to turn in an obviously guilty colleague, even if it was just Nobby. Suddenly his eyes widened as a worrying thought occurred to him. "What magazine?"

"Oh, um…The Pink…something, I think."

"'Pink Pages'?" Angua nodded and Vimes groaned. "Oh gods, who else saw it?"

"Just us, sir."

"…and your wife," added Sally quietly.

Vimes' eyes widened so much they were in danger of escaping his face entirely. "My _wife_ saw it?" he asked in a choked voice. "Did she read it?" Sally nodded. "Oh _gods_, I'm getting divorced, aren't I?" He pushed his chair back, began to hit his forehead on the table and make moaning noises. It'd been a very trying day.

"Well, she didn't seem angry about it, sir," said Sally reassuringly. "Just…surprised."

The banging paused. "Funny surprised or angry surprised?"

"Um…shocked surprised," she tried hopefully.

The banging resumed.

"Sir, perhaps if you go and explain?" said Angua. "I mean, it's not as if you've done that stuff." She paused. "Have you?"

Vimes' head shot up and he subjected her to a full-on glare, but the effect was rather ruined by the piece of the poster that had stuck to his forehead. Especially when you considered _which_ piece it was. "Of course not, sergeant," he hissed. He stood up suddenly and the watchmen stepped back hurriedly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some things to do at home."

He pushed past them and stomped down the stairs. It wasn't until they heard him break into a run outside that they released the breath they hadn't realised they'd been holding.

* * *

"Sybil! _Sybil_!" 

Sybil poked her head out the master bedroom as she heard her husband frantically calling for her. "Is everything all right, Sam?"

He gave her an anxious look. "I hope so. Um...Sally said you read something at the Yard today…"

Sybil smiled. "Oh, her little magazine? Yes, I read that."

"And you're not angry?"

"Why would I be? It was just a story; it's not like you've actually done any of that."

Vimes let out a sigh of relief.

"I actually found the idea of it rather attractive."

His jaw dropped. "W-what?"

Sybil grinned. "I said that the idea of you being with another man was rather attractive." She sighed happily. "It's so…"

"Unlikely?" asked Vimes incredulously. What the hell was going on today? First Carrot and now Sybil? Something was deeply wrong with the world. "I know we never discussed this before, Sybil, but you do know I'm actually straight, right? I like women; men just don't do it for me. Trust me, I'd know."

"Oh I know, Sam. But it's still so exciting." She winked at him. "I mean, wouldn't you find the idea of me with another woman attractive?"

Vimes' mouth opened and shut as he considered which answer wouldn't earn him a bed in the dragon-house for the night. "…I…um…Sybil, that's different…"

"How?"

"Because it just _is_." Vimes shifted uncomfortably. "With two women it'd be…y'know…gentler and nicer and stuff," he mumbled.

Sybil giggled. "You obviously didn't go to an all-girls school then." She grinned at the expression on his face. "Oh, believe me, Sam, I could certainly tell you a few stories; nicer doesn't even begin to come into it half the time. And as for gentle…" She giggled again.

"Yeah, but two men? It'd be all…" he waved his hands vaguely. "…and then…you really think that's attractive?"

"Oh yes, it's so deliciously naughty; especially when the men are usually not gay--"

Vimes froze. "—Sybil, exactly _which_ stories have you been reading in that magazine?"

"All of them, Sam." She gave him a cheeky smile. "But the one with you and Havelock was my favourite."

"Oh _gods_." He sank to the floor. "Why me?"

Sybil knelt down beside him. "I keep telling you, Sam, you're a very handsome man; so is Havelock, albeit in a different way. And you both do keep arguing all the time, it'd be so easy to misconstrue that as some kind of sexual tension."

"Yes, but it's _not_…" Vimes took a deep breath and looked up at his wife. "Sybil, I have something to tell you."

"Yes?"

"Lately Vetinari's been…flirting with me." He groaned as she gave him an excited grin. "It's not funny, dammit!"

She coughed and tried, without much success, to banish the grin from her face. "Oh course not, dear." She paused. "Did you…respond?"

He gave her a confused look. "In what way?"

"Well, did you kiss him or anything?"

"No!"

"Why not? You may have enjoyed it."

"_Because I'm not_--"

"You never know until you try it, Sam."

Vimes sighed; it was a losing battle. "If I did try it," he said slowly. "If I kissed him—only kissed, mind—and I didn't enjoy it, do you promise you'll stop talking about me doing…that?"

"That depends; do I get to watch?"

* * *

"Commander Vimes is here to see you again, sir." 

Vetinari tried not to grin at the news; it'd been an extremely boring evening so far and he'd been itching for a chance to make Vimes squirm again. "Send him in, Drumknott." He downgraded the grin to a welcoming smile. "Commander--" The smile wavered uncertainly as he saw who was accompanying the Watch Commander. "—and Sybil; what a pleasant surprise."

Sybil returned the smile. "Havelock, it's wonderful to see you again."

"So what can I do for you both? Is there some kind of problem with the Watch?"

Vimes snorted. "Hardly. No, _this_ is the problem. You've been flirting with me, my lord."

Vetinari gave him a carefully calculated look of bewilderment. "I have? I apologise most profusely, Commander, if my behaviour has been misconstrued as some kind of affection but--"

"Nice try, my lord, but if even Carrot's noticed it then trust me, it's obvious you're up to something," snapped Vimes. "And I'm sick of it. There's rumours about the two of us flying all over the city, I've got my own watchmen bringing that damn magazine into the Yard and now even Sybil's half-convinced we've got the hots for each other."

Vetinari's gaze flicked over to Sybil; she did seem rather flushed as she watched the two men argue. She seemed to be grinning rather dreamily too. Oh dear.

Vetinari sighed. "I admit that I've been amusing myself by pretending to have romantic intentions towards you, Commander. I shall desist immediately." He stood up and stuck out his hand. "I apologise if I have upset you unduly."

Vimes took his hand and shook it slowly. "That's not good enough."

"It's not?"

"No." Vimes gripped Vetinari's hand harder and pulled him closer. "You see, because of you, Sybil—my _wife_—is convinced that I am attracted to you on some subconscious level. I need to prove that's not true."

Vetinari tried in vain to extract his hand from Vimes'; damn, the man had a _grip_. "I can assure you, Commander, that is not necessary--"

"Oh, but it is." And with that Vimes pulled Vetinari even closer and with his free hand pulled the taller man's face down to his own.

And kissed him.

Vetinari's eyes opened wide as the Commander's lips pressed against his own. He tried desperately to suppress the urge to whip out a knife and stab him as the kiss deepened and Vimes' body pressed against his. Sybil sighed happily.

_Don'tkillhimhe'simportantdon'tkillhimhe'simportantdon'tkillhimohgodsohgods_…

After what seemed like an eternity Vimes finally pulled away and gave the Patrician a smirk. "There; feel anything?"

Vetinari gulped. "Yes, but I'm hoping that was just your truncheon," he said weakly.

"Well I didn't feel _anything_. So I assume that's sorted out then?"

Vetinari nodded quickly.

"Good. And you'll sort out that magazine's publishers?"

Vetinari nodded again, not trusting his voice to let out anything above a squeak.

Vimes gave him a calculating stare and smiled. "Right. Well enjoy the rest of your evening, my lord. Sybil, let's go home." He grabbed his wife's hand and turned to go.

"Er…Vimes?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"Did you have to be so liberal with your tongue?"

Vimes shrugged. "Sybil likes it," he said simply. Sybil turned back to the Patrician and winked.

Vetinari watched the Watch Commander and his wife leave the room and wandered over to the drinks cabinet; for the first time in years, he desperately needed a drink. As he poured himself a large brandy he glanced over at the issue of 'Pink Pages' he'd left on his desk as one of the props to wind up Vimes with. To his surprise he found he was rather looking forward to dealing with its publishers.

He downed the brandy as he realised he could still remember the feel of Vimes' body and lips pressed against his. He considered the sensation for a moment before sighing, picking up the magazine and whistling into the speaking tube on his desk.

"Drumknott, would you come in here for a moment? I have a rather urgent matter that needs attending to immediately."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Ahahahaha. I'm back. Sort of.

* * *

"So didn't you enjoy it just a little?" asked Sybil curiously. "You certainly seemed to be getting into it."

"Sybil, you promised me you wouldn't talk about this anymore."

"Yes, I know, Sam, and I won't but I just _really_ want to know!"

"Okay, okay, calm down," said Vimes quickly. "You sure you want to know?"

Sybil nodded.

Vimes sighed. "Fine. It was…okay."

"Just 'okay'?"

"Look, Sybil, I really don't want to talk about this."

"Please, Sam."

"It…it…was a kiss, okay? It was…not bad to tell you the truth," snapped Vimes. "There, you happy now?"

Sybil smiled at her husband and cuddled up to him as the carriage turned a corner. "Thank you, Sam."

"And now I'm all confused."

"You are?"

"Wouldn't you be?" asked Vimes. "I just kissed another man, Sybil, and not just any man but Vetinari. And it wasn't awful." He sighed again.

Sybil grinned. "So now you're worrying about your sexuality? Honestly Sam, you always get worked up over nothing."

"I'd hardly call it noth--"

"Okay, then, answer this. Do you find Havelock attractive?"

"Er…no."

"And could you imagine doing all those things to him that those stories said?"

"Which ones?"

"Um…" Sybil tried to think of a good one. "Okay, could you do the thing to him with the feather?"

"You mean the thing where I'd…?" Vimes paled. "Oh gods, no."

"There you are then."

"But--"

"Maybe Havelock's just a good kisser, Sam." Sybil patted his leg absent-mindedly. "He certainly was when he was younger."

"_What_?" Vimes' jaw dropped. "You mean, you…and him? _When_?"

"Oh, it was a long time ago, Sam. There was an Assassin's Ball and he asked me to go as a friend and well, one thing sort of led to another." She giggled. "It was only one little kiss; I think he trying to prove something to himself to tell you the truth."

Vimes stared at her. "I…I…oh _gods_…"

* * *

Vetinari glared at the two men standing in front of his desk. "I want this stopped," he snapped, throwing a copy of 'Pink Pages' onto the desk. "All of these stories you're having your readers write are causing a significant amount of disruption to the running of the city."

"With all due respect, Lord Vetinari," said Mr Favisham, editor in chief of the 'Pink Pages'. "We wouldn't print these stories if our readers didn't want them in our magazine."

"Meaning?"

"If we stop publishing them, then the writers will simply go elsewhere. There are hundreds of such magazines being printed in the city."

"I thought you'd say that," said Vetinari thoughtfully. "Do you agree with Mr Favisham, Mr Donnelly?"

Donnelly swallowed nervously. "Er…he does have a point, my lord. Our readers are the ones who write the stories, we just print them. And they do seem to want you and Commander Vimes in particular to…y'know…have sex."

"Maybe if you did, the rumours would stop," offered Favisham. "If you and the Commander get down to it and give 'Pink Pages' the exclusive rights to iconograph and write about the event it might sate the public's curiosity and they'll obsess about something else."

Vetinari stared at the man in shock. "Are you suggesting," he said slowly. "That the Commander and I fornicate for the amusement of you and your readers?"

"Yes."

"I see. Drumknott!"

Drumknott quickly appeared. "Yes sir?"

"Summon the Palace Guard and have them escort Mr Favisham and Mr Donnelly to the scorpion pit, will you?"

"Yes sir."

Once the two men had been roughly manhandled from the room, much to their delight, Vetinari sat back in his chair and sighed.

"Do you know what those two said to me, Drumknott?"

"No sir."

"They actually suggested that Vimes and I have sex in front of them so they could write about it," Vetinari said glumly. "They said it would stop people wanting to hear about it if they actually got to."

"Astonishing, sir."

"The worst thing about it is that they may have a point."

"Sir?"

"I've often noticed that people tend to want that which is almost unachievable with a nearly maniacal fervour. Then once it actually does come to pass, they decide they don't want it anymore."

"Like my nephew with his pin collection, sir," said Drumknott. "He waited years to find a Clockspenny half-twist with the special emblem but as soon as he found one, it was all over with the pins and he moved on to stamps."

"Hmm." Vetinari brightened. "On the other hand, maybe if I just leave it then it _might_ all blow over."

"Er…perhaps now may not be the best time to tell you about the new issue then, sir," said Drumknott hesitantly. "It hasn't gotten to the shops yet but Mr Favisham brought it in with him and I had a quick look through it while you were in your meeting…"

"Is it bad?"

"I, um, I think you'd better take a look at it for yourself, sir." Drumknott scurried out of the room and returned with the magazine under his arm. Vetinari took it and eyed its front cover warily.

"What page?"

"Thirteen."

With a resigned sigh he opened the magazine at the appropriate page. And stared.

Eventually he managed to find his voice again. "Drumknott, I _am_ seeing an icono-story with Mr Favisham and Mr Donnelly dressed like the Commander and myself and performing a number of highly-explicit sex acts on one another, aren't I?"

"I'm afraid so, sir; with close-ups."

* * *

Carrot opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. "I just had the weirdest dream."

Angua smiled to herself as she brushed out her hair in front of the mirror. "Was it the one where you, Visit and Nobby form a singing cabaret group and perform at the Palace again?"

Carrot shook his head. "No. I was standing in front of the Yard with Mr Vimes and there were all these people around and suddenly I was standing naked by the front doors…"

"Oh _that_. Yeah, that actually happened."

"_What_?"

"Well, _you_ weren't actually naked; it was a giant poster of you. Then you fainted and banged your head." She put down the brush and touched his forehead gingerly. "How are you feeling anyway?"

"A giant poster? Where from?" Carrot propped himself up on his elbows and somehow managed to frown and look panicked at the same time. "How many people saw it? How naked?""

"Yes, some gay magazine, everyone and full frontal." Angua pulled the page she'd ripped from Sally's copy out of her pocket. "See?"

The furrows in Carrot's brow deepened. "I don't remember this. When was this taken? _How_ was this taken?"

"Last Tuesday, remember? You started doing naked push-ups beside the bed and I made fun of you and bet you two dollars that you wouldn't do naked star-jumps instead…" she grinned and pointed to the picture. "That's my knee, there. They managed to angle the iconograph so I was almost completely hidden by that cupboard."

"Why would they want to do that?"

"Well, it _is_ from a gay magazine, Carrot."

"Yeah, but when you're…I think you look…" he blushed. "…y'know…beautiful and stuff…"

Angua smiled; sometimes Carrot could be so lovably dense. "Thanks, but I don't think they share your liking for the female body."

"I suppose not. How did they take that picture anyway?" asked Carrot. He glanced out of the window. "Did they stand on the Opera House roof or something?"

"Apparently."

"Oh. Why would they want to do that?"

"They probably needed a picture to go with that story about you and Vimes," said Angua, looking at the picture again. "I'm thinking of getting this framed."

"What story?

"Hmm?"

"Angua, _what_ story?"

Angua waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, just some story about you and Mr Vimes being secret lovers or something. You have this crush on him and seduce him; it was actually quite good."

"Oh. Did…um…did Mr Vimes read the story?"

"I think so, why?"

Carrot shook his head. "I just wondered." He smiled.

* * *

"So the Commander just marched in there and kissed him?" asked Clerk Brian excitedly. "Did you see it? What was it like? Did his Lordship look like he was enjoying it?"

"I didn't see it," said Drumknott. "But yes, Vimes just walked in there and laid one on him."

"I can't believe I missed it," grumbled Brian. "So what was his Lordship like when you went in there? Was he trembling with desire for the Commander?"

"No. I do think he was trembling with shock though."

"Shocked because of the unbidden lust that was rising up in his loins?"

Drumknott stared at him. "Rising up in his--? You've been reading that magazine again, haven't you?"

"No." Brian tried to hold back his smile but couldn't quite manage it. "…Yes. Have you seen this month's issue?"

"Yes, and so has his Lordship, so keep out of his way, okay?" said Drumknott. "He's in a filthy mood."

"Filthy as in he can't stop thinking about that kiss?"

"No; more like he's considering personally flaying alive anyone who reads or writes that magazine."

Brian sighed. "It's such a shame. He and Vimes would make such a cute couple."

"Cute? _Them_?"

"Just think about it, Rufus. Lord Vetinari is so calm and controlled but Vimes is so rough and rugged. The two of them would be so…" he smiled dreamily. "…I'd give almost anything to see that."

"Have I ever mentioned that I find you very strange, Brian?"

"…I mean, imagine the passion, the intensity...and you know Lord Vetinari hasn't had any for a while so he'd be practically ripping Vimes' clothes off."

"How do you know that?" asked Drumknott. "What about Lady Margolotta?"

"Oh come on, Rufus; she's in Uberwald," scoffed Brian. "Besides, unless Lord Vetinari has some very strange associations with games of chess and thud, I doubt he's going to be anything like _that_ out of it. Then again he could be using the pieces to--"

"I don't want to know!"

"Suit yourself."

* * *

"So you really kissed Vetinari? Like on the lips and everything?"

"Where else would I kiss him, Sam?" asked Sybil. She grinned. "Actually, don't think about that."

Vimes grimaced. "Too late."

Sybil snuggled up to him and rested her head on his chest. "So did you think about him at all during…?"

"No."

"Are you sure? You didn't even think about him because you were so busy trying _not_ to think about him?"

Vimes shook his head in disbelief. "Sybil, do you really want me to say that I was thinking about Vetinari during sex with you?"

"Well no, but--"

"Stop talking about it then."

"So you weren't trying to prove anything?"

"Of course I was." Vimes froze. "Hang on, were _you_ thinking about him?"

Sybil smiled. "I thought we weren't going to talk about it anymore."

"Sybil, I'm being serious."

"So am I, Sam. You can't just change the rules like that to suit you, it's unfair."

"Fine, be like that."

"I will."

Sybil waited. She didn't have to wait long.

"His beard itches," said Vimes.

"Did it?"

"And he's so cold. How can anyone be that cold and still be alive?"

"I don't know, Sam."

"He's bony too. All ribs and elbows."

"Yes I remember."

Vimes groaned. "Oh gods, I can't believe me and my wife have kissed the same man."

Sybil patted his chest reassuringly. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, Sam, you can go out and kiss another man to up your score."

"Very funny, Sybil."

"I thought so too, dear." Sybil looked up at him and grinned. "I wasn't thinking about Havelock before, Sam."

"Good."

"I was thinking about Ronnie Rust instead."

Vimes glared at her for a moment then burst out laughing. "Right, that's it. Come here--"

* * *

'_Dear Havelock,_

_I vish you had told me of your affection for the Commander. I should have known something about you vas different; at least now I know vhy you vere so reluctant to invite me to your city…'_

Vetinari put down the clacks and sighed as Drumknott handed him another one.

'_Pookie,_

_Why didn't you tell me? I have lots of friends with eligible sons who would be dying to meet you. I don't know why I didn't guess it sooner, after all it explains so much…'_

He threw the sheet of paper down onto the desk and glared at it. "I'm annoyed, Drumknott."

"Yes sir."

"I am very, _very_ annoyed."

"Yes sir."

"I would even go as far as to say that I am furious."

"Yes sir."

Vetinari began tapping his foot against the leg of the desk irritably. "Why me, Drumknott?"

"Sir?"

"I don't understand it. Just because I'm a bachelor, living alone with nothing but a small dog and a palace full of mostly male clerks and servants to keep me company, that does _not_ mean I'm gay."

"No sir."

"But magazine thinks I am. Half the city thinks I am. Now my aunt and my g—Margolotta think so too."

"Yes sir."

"I mean, honestly, from the way that magazine puts things, you'd think we held a daily orgy in the Great Hall."

Drumknott paled at the thought of this. "A…um…silly idea, sir."

"And those stories of theirs!" carried on Vetinari obliviously. "Just because Vimes and I disagree a lot does not mean that I secretly want him to bend me over my desk and…do things to me."

"N-no sir."

"I don't understand why Vimes wasn't paired more with Captain Carrot instead of me anyway. After all, they're both handsome in their different ways. Vimes is so rough, and the Captain is such a good-looking young man with that firm, muscular physique of his--" Vetinari stopped in mid-sentence as he examined what he had just said. He groaned. "It's because I say things like that, isn't it?"

"Possibly, sir." Drumknott took a deep breath to try and steady his nerves. "I…er…I think I may have an idea, sir."

Vetinari looked at him blankly for a moment, then leaned back in his chair and stared at him expectantly. "Well this should be interesting..."


	4. Chapter 4

"Well, sir," said Drumknott nervously. "What if you were to get married?"

Vetinari stared at him for a full minute before answering. "Drumknott, am I going to have to tell you to throw yourself in the scorpion pit?"

"But it could work, sir--"

"No, it couldn't," said Vetinari in withering tones. "For the simple reason that Commander Vimes is very much married and that hasn't stopped these silly rumours about _him_, has it?"

"Well no, sir. But it might stop there being quite so many of them about _you_…" Drumknott trailed off as Vetinari's eyes narrowed. "Sorry, bad idea."

"Yes, it was," said Vetinari solemnly. "Besides, who did you have in mind for the bride?"

"Lady Margolotta, sir."

"_Margolotta_? Are you _mad_?" exclaimed Vetinari. "You honestly think I'd marry _her_?"

"But you had that um, relationship with her when you were young, didn't you, sir? And you talk to her all the time using the clacks."

"Yes, but…" Vetinari shuddered. "That was all a long time ago, Drumknott. And the way she was then…and the way she is now…no, it simply wouldn't work."

"Why not, sir?"

"Because, Drumknott. Just because." Vetinari shuddered again then looked up at his secretary. "Any other bright ideas?"

"No sir."

"Capital." Vetinari pulled a bunch of keys out of his pocket and handed them to his secretary. "There you are. Go and throw yourself in the pit for ten minutes."

"Yes sir. Sorry sir." Drumknott turned to go but stopped at the doorway. "Um, sir?"

Vetinari looked up. "You appear to still be here, Drumknott."

"Yes. There's, er, there's something I haven't told you about, sir."

Vetinari's eyes narrowed. "You haven't actually arranged the wedding, have you, Drumknott? Because the gibbet in Nonesuch Street is still in a usable condition; you do know that, don't you?"

"Yes! No. It's not that, sir," said Drumknott hurriedly.

"Then what is it?"

"Well, we've received rather a lot of post today, sir. Quite a bit, actually."

"So?"

"It's all addressed to you, sir."

Vetinari raised an eyebrow. "I _am_ the Patrician, Drumknott."

"Yes sir, I know. It's just that—perhaps I'd better show you this, sir." Drumknott pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Vetinari.

The eyebrow rose further as he quickly read the first paragraph of the letter. It was soon followed by the other one as he read the second paragraph. By the time he'd finished the entire thing not only had Vetinari's jaw dropped but his face was bright red.

Drumknott looked at him with fascination; he hadn't thought Vetinari _could_ blush. "Are you okay, sir?"

"What? Oh…yes. Yes, I'm fine." Vetinari glanced at the letter again and winced. "Drumknott, who exactly is this Miss Oakeneye? And why would she want you to do…that to me? And me to do _that_ to you? And why on the disc would she actually _tell_ people about it?"

"As far as we can tell, sir, she's just a young lady who lives Dolly Sisters. We don't know _why_ she wrote that."

"Are the Watch aware that there is a raging pervert residing in the area? Have any young men been accosted and forced to do this creature's bidding?" asked Vetinari.

"Not as yet, sir."

"My word. Such restraint." Vetinari risked another look at the note. "It's a shame she doesn't apply the same restraint to her correspondence. Are the rest of the letters like this?"

"Oh no, sir," said Drumknott. "Some are worse."

"_Worse_?" exclaimed Vetinari. "Is that possible?"

"Evidently so, sir. You've received a letter from someone calling themselves…" Drumknott blushed, "…'Drummers'."

"And what is that about?"

"It's a short story about you and the Commander--"

"Obviously."

"—having what I believe is known as a 'threesome' with…let me see…"

"Oh gods…" muttered Vetinari. He took a sip of tea in an effort to calm his nerves. "Who is it?"

"…ah yes…Lady Sybil."

Vetinari went red again as he tried not to choke. "Sybil?" he croaked. "But I've known her since we were children. Why? How? How could that possibly work?"

"We were all wondering that ourselves in the clerks quarters, sir," said Drumknott, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. "So I asked Leonard to do a quick sketch of the three of you based on the story--"

"And the finished painting will be ready in a few days, I suppose," said Vetinari acidly. He glared at the picture.

"Leonard did say it would only be for a bit of practice, sir," said Drumknott. "He said it would be an interesting exercise in attempting to show motions and movements through a static medium. Especially as you're all so…_enthusiastic_ in the story."

Vetinari sighed. "Exactly how many letters have we—I received so far?"

"At last count: 27, 372," said Drumknott. "But there are a couple of sacks downstairs we haven't sorted yet, so it could be more. And that's just this morning's delivery."

"Capital. What a truly wonderful day this is turning out to be," said Vetinari sarcastically.

"And that's not all, sir. There's something else you need to know..."

* * *

"_Psst_!"

"Not yet but it's only three-thirty," muttered Dave. "You want something?"

"Yes," the figure in front of the counter whispered loudly. "Do you have any copies of…_Pink Pages_?"

Dave chuckled. "You've got to be kidding--" He looked up at last. "Oh, it's you, Captain Carrot."

Carrot smiled uneasily. "Hello, Mr Trumpton. So, um, do you have any?"

"I wish I did, Captain. But I had a bit of a rush on today; seems most of the city wanted to read that magazine today, I heard everyone's sold out."

"Oh."

"It was a bit strange really. Usually _Pink Pages_ is a pretty slow seller but today I couldn't keep 'em on the shelves. Must've been those Vetinari and Vimes cut-out dolls they had free with the issue 'cause of that icono-story."

"Dolls?"

"Yeah. Basic stuff really, insert tab C into slot A and all that but the girls were going mad for 'em."

Carrot's brow furrowed. "Ladies were buying it?"

Dave nodded. "That was the other weird thing; normally all my customers for that one are men. But today each and every single one was a woman. Is that weird or what?"

* * *

"All the writers claim to belong to an organisation called F.A.N.G.I.R.L.S. sir," said Drumknott. "Females Advocating Nominated Gay Intimate Relationships and Loud Sex."

"_Loud_ Sex?" said Vetinari, raising an eyebrow. "They really concern themselves with the decibel level involved?"

"Yes sir. They've even put it in their charter."

"Really?"

"Yes sir. Apparently F.A.N.G.I.R.L.S. really don't like it if a man just lies there and go 'mmm' a bit at the end."

"And there's the second problem," sighed Vetinari.

"Sir?"

"Well I'm hardly going to be enthusiastic about something like that, am I?" Vetinari sighed again. "No, this simply won't do. Contact the person in charge of the F.A.N.G.I.R.L.S. and arrange a meeting. And find Vimes; I have a feeling he'll want to know about this."


End file.
